


The Honeymoon Suite: It's Traditional

by MountainRose



Series: The Argument of Periapsis [5]
Category: Almost Human
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Other, SEX!, Telepathic Sex, alien!Dorian, aquatic sex, honeymoon suite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MountainRose/pseuds/MountainRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finally gets to see what <em>both</em> Dorian's cocks feel like. </p><p>At the same time. </p><p>  <em>Underwater.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honeymoon Suite: It's Traditional

 

“Room with a view, huh?” John said, dropping his bag on the bed and heading straight for the French doors. The ocean spread out, beyond a narrow strip of reddish-orange sand, startlingly blue and frothing into white breakers a few hundred meters out.

“Of course, John; you wanted to see my home, not just stand on its earth.”

John huffed and tilted his head sideways. “And the Jacuzzi?”

Dorian had to raise his voice to be heard, he had his head inside a wardrobe. “It’s a traditional suite!”

“So, we’re expected to sleep in the water?” John said, crouching down to test the temperature; balmy warm. “Hate to break it to you but—“

“Wait, who said anything about _sleeping_?” Dorian said, his legs bumping against John’s back.

“Oh, I see how it is, this is some sort of marriage-slash-honeymoon suite and you just wanna fuck me in the water.”

Dorian didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed; his grin was wide and toothy; bastard was finally getting the hang of it. “Absolutely.”

Well, John wasn’t going to argue with that. He stood up straight and crowded against Dorian’s front, pushing him back from the water’s edge. “So what’s it gonna be, partner? Quick and dirty against the side of the pool? Or did you want to be getting fucked, hmm?”

Dorian’s eyes blew wide and his antennae inched forwards until they were almost touching John’s skin. He tilted his face away just enough to frustrate and looked at Dorian with a lascivious grin. “Or maybe, you want to take it slow...go the whole hog. Maybe I’ll work you up until it’s all you can do to take it, then do it all over again.”

He saw the moment Dorian cracked and tensed his abs and thighs; Dorian swept him up and slammed him against the wall, their foreheads knocking together and a tide of pushed images flooding into John’s mind. ‘ _Oh, now thats an idea,’_ John thought, holding onto an impression of violent, satisfying fucking against the wall. _‘Why not right here, right now. You want all up inside me, don’t you?’_

Dorian growled into the bare inch between their mouths before closing the gap with a kiss that literally knocked the breath out of him. Dorian was strong, and usually so careful, but not when he had his antennae on John’s skin, not when he could tell exactly how much _satisfaction_ John got out of the violence.  

He hooked his nyvon leg around Dorian’s waist and hiked himself up, making it very clear how much his anatomy approved of all this. Not that Dorian couldn’t tell, John knew, because his antennae were wrapped firmly around John’s head, feeding him feelings and sensations and drinking in his mind.

_off, what is the human fascination with clothes, just get in the way--_

“That’s the-- ah hey there-- the idea,” John gasped as Dorian pulled back far enough to pull off John’s shirt “We can’t all have internal cocks.”

“It is _vulnerable_ , I grant...” Dorian said, pointedly rolling his belly against John’s groin, making him groan and throw his head back.

“And that would have been far more satisfying without the fucking clothes, _point taken._ ”

Dorian grinned, leaning in to suck at John’s pulse while they both scrambled at fastenings and zipper. His belt came free, and _oh god yes._

Dorian stroked him just enough to take the edge off, but leave him hanging, before nudging him gently to the ground again.

“You fucking tease...” John gasped, leaning against Dorian’s chest while he shoved his pants down over his hips and kicked them off, shoes and all. Dorian just grinned at him, _again_.

“Get in the pool, John,” the bastard said, right in his ear. “And don’t touch yourself,” John bristled, ‘cause he’d do what he damn well pleased, thank you very much, “you’ll need all your stamina.”

 _aww fuck_.

John sauntered back to the pool, flexing his artificial toes and making sure Dorian got a good view of what was on offer before he climbed down the steps. The water was hot, blissfully so, and crystal clear; maybe he didn’t have to worry about the view after all.

Dorian wasn’t far behind, carrying a bottle of lube and a ladle of something sparkly that John eyed with trepidation. “Ooooh, no, no. If i come out of this with a glittery ass, I’m eating garlic every day for a week.”

The ladle swung out over the water and sprayed the blueish salt in a wide arc that sank quickly and ticklishly over John’s legs. “You’ll appreciate it, later,” Dorian promised. “You won’t sparkle.”

“I’d better not...” John grumbled, already feeling the change in buoyancy of the water as the salt dissolved.

Dorian was a sight, though. Far more worth looking at than the spreading blue of the salt. He was back in his natural habitat, and it showed in the brilliance of the glow on his cheeks and throat, how it speared down his flanks, when it’d usually confine itself to above his collarbones. His cocks weren’t out yet, but all that hard muscle was more than enough to get John salivating, and his ridges were flushed with blood; it wouldn’t take much.

He stepped down into the water with the kind of confidence John could only dream of, and straddled John’s legs. His weight was just enough to feel, but not enough to ache, and John pulled their hips together with an arm around Dorian’s waist. “Salt, huh.”

“There is a reason it is ‘traditional’,” Dorian said with a grin, his arms sliding over John’s shoulders to grip the edge of the pool.

“You know what else is traditional? _Fucking._ ”

Dorian huffed at him, but his tendrils said he was more amused than irritated, and the kiss he bent down to give was all teeth and tongues and playful nips. John had thought he’d managed to get Dorian worked up, break a little bit of that self control; apparently that hadn’t lasted.

John wasn’t going to just give up though; he knew the sweet spots and secrets that’d get Dorian so worked up, he couldn’t hold back. John was gonna get fucked tonight, and he wanted it _hard._

Antennae were always a good bet, and as Doran’s kisses shifted to hot, slick presses and bites on John’s neck, they were in reach. Had to start soft though, or they’d flick away, tense as a virgin’s asshole. So he nibbled along Dorian’s hairline, tongue and lips and heat, and worked his way across one jutting antenna’s base, the tough shell shifting under his tongue as the antenna started to curl and shiver. Against his neck, Dorian’s breath was getting ragged and he grinned, knowing Dorian could feel it. Intentions so announced, he could go in for the kill and pulled the shorter of the two tendrils into his mouth.

He had to hold on to Dorian’s shoulders to keep his helpless jerk from interfering, but the tendril was not exactly displeased, and curled against John’s lapping tongue.

“John, _John..._ ” Dorian was reduced to panting and shaking, his cocks making an appearance against Johns belly, curling around his own in a way that, while irresistibly fantastic, wasn’t quite what he had in mind.

He reluctantly let go of the antenna and nudged Dorian’s head up. His eyes were blown almost black and his mouth was slack with pleasure, and John wanted a taste of that. He bumped their foreheads together in mute demand and Dorian’s eyes closed as his antennae found the sweet spots on John’s head. Their minds floated together for a second, while Dorian calibrated what he was sending John against what he was receiving, and then John started picking up the unbearable _good_ sensation of tingling aftershocks in an appendage he didn’t have.

_you’re amazing, fucking fantastic, i love that you feel this, feels so good..._

It was already fading, that overwhelming sensation, and John could feel the gears beginning to tick ‘round again. ‘ _Fuck me, Dorian. I want it all, right here.’_

He felt Dorian’s spike of want, caught an image of himself stretched wide over something, his face open and helpless--

_‘Yes. Now.’_

Dorian agreed wordlessly, as if that had ever been a question at this point, and lifted John bodily away from the bench, flipping them over. John went with it as gracefully as was possible, which was to say, he let Dorian man-handle him, and knelt over Dorian’s thighs, his cock bobbing in the water between them. John distracted himself by kneeling up and nibbling behind Dorian’s ear, where his skin was hypersensitive, supposedly for detecting water movements. Dorian just had so _many_ fantastic erogenous zones.  

But then, Dorian’s thick fingers were at his hole, under the water but still slick with lube. John shook his head and pushed himself up on his arms. “I don’t need it, Dee. Just fuck me, I want to fee--”

But the expression on Dorian’s face cut him off; he knew that leer; that leer was ‘you’re not going to be able to stand tomorrow’ and ‘Sandra’s gonna _know_ whose you are’. John’s arms went weak and he hid his face in Dorian’s shoulder.

“You know what? Never mind...” he muttered, his hands clenching and relaxing at the back of Dorian’s neck. Dorian didn’t respond verbally, but that was definitely a kiss to the top of his head, and his fingers started working at John’s hole.

John put his head down and relaxed, as much as he could, because for all his efforts, Dorian was being _thorough_ , and he wouldn’t fuck him just because he demanded it, not until he could fit three fingers in him easily.

 _‘fucking gentleman, you are,’_ he grumbled in the semi-privacy of his own head as a second finger pressed inside. There was the cool touch of a tendril on his temple, so it was a fair bet that Dorian could hear at least the intention. Dorian’s fingers were blunter, harder to take than his cock, and Dorian delighted in breaching him so thoroughly, getting him begging for one of those prehensile cocks. Well, not tonight, John promised himself, mouthing at Dorian’s skin and biting down idly. Tonight, he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of begging, he was ju--

Oh who the fuck was he kidding. Begging? Nah. He was going to order the fucking tease to get the _fuck on with it._

He opened his mouth, demanding frown set, and Dorian nailed his prostate. “Oh you -- sneaky-- little shit oh my god you’d better fucking do that again, or I’ll--” Dorian obliged, pressing down on that sparking, irresistible place at the most opportune moment and rubbing, not letting up even when all the breath was crushed out of him.

John was reduced to a trembling mess, panting and clutching at Dorian, his body blazing hot and on the edge of orgasm, but the bastard wasn’t _thrusting_ , just holding there, fingers pressed inside harshly and John couldn’t come. A soft litany of swearwords was about all he could manage, but there was only so long he could stay that tense and muscle by muscle, he shook himself limp.

“There you go...” Dorian muttered in his ear, his fingers easing back to stretch his slack entrance. John couldn’t respond, too busy trying to remember how to breathe, except to whine when Dorian took his fingers away. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to realise what Dorian’s rearranging of his limbs meant until there was the sinuous press of the tip of one of his cocks at his hole.

It slid in easily, narrow then thick, pressing and feeling inside him with easy, curious touches. It wasn’t like the harsh frantic press of a human cock, all hard and unforgiving, but it was just as big. It didn’t matter how John tilted his hips, straining for pressure on his sweet spot, Dorian was in complete control, his grin just visible through the haze of pleasure.

“D...Dorian, c’mon, man...” he panted, fisting his hands together behind Dorian’s neck in an attempt to keep himself together.

“Shhhh, Detective, you have to be patient; you did say you wanted it all.”

John groaned--- past-him was a dick-- and rolled his hips to get a little friction. Dorian slipped a hand between them to stroke his cock, rather than using his other tentacle, and John arched, his body bowing against Dorian’s until there was barely any water between them. He hadn’t really thought about what he’d asked for, but when the tip of Dorian’s other cock ran around his stretched rim, he knew he wanted it. He sank down further on his knees, spreading himself wider and banged a fist against Dorian’s shoulder, nodding.

“Please, Dee, don’t tease.”

“Relax, and _breathe_...” John nodded, letting Dorian’s hands hold him up, trusting despite the water up to his throat, and took a deep breath.

The tip of the second cock pressed in slowly, stretching, and the first writhed and wriggled, pressing distractingly against his sweetspot. It hurt for a second, a bad combination of John’s movements and Dorian’s inexorable thrust inwards, and Dorian stilled while John relaxed again.

“Okay, I’m good... Don’t stop, oh god, don’t stop. If you fucking stop now, I will blast your god-damn head off your shoulders you bastard,” John said, breathy and helpless despite the rough words. It was like being fucked for the first time, so big, and unfamiliar and unbelievably good, only they weren’t struggling to hit his prostate; Dorian’s cocks knew exactly where and how and how hard.

“Okay, you’re okay... shhh...”

John tried to obey Dorian’s soothing touches, tried to breathe, but he was split open, his body wasn’t obeying his commands, too focused on the curling intensity. Dorian started moving again, not just the prehensile caresses inside, but thrusts. He barely pulled out, just pushing the last inch in over and over, digging into him and knocking the breath out of him. He gasped for air, Dorian’s hand on his throat lifting his head back, holding him so their foreheads could touch, letting him feel exactly how tight and hot he felt.

John felt like he was going out of his mind, spitted on more cock than any guy had any right to possess, and pleasured with the kind of finesse only a mind-reader could manage, and _feeling it from both sides_.

He’d been on the edge of coming since Dorian’s trick with his fingers, and when he started to get slick, Dorian’s cocks getting sloppy and wet, he knew Dorian was close too, and started fucking himself down on Dorian’s cocks. Each stroke felt like too much and not enough, until Dorian shifted his grip to John’s hips and started helping, pulling John down harder and faster than his shaky muscles, weak with pleasure, could manage on their own.

The water felt cool between their bodies as the heat built to bursting point and Dorian slammed deep as his cocks stiffened and filled him up. The thrust jammed Dorian’s shaking, buzzing cocks against his sweet spot and John came with a helpless cry, the water between them going cloudy.

John was too blissed out to worry about the steady stream of moans still leaking out of his mouth, his head lolling back on his neck and resting in Dorian’s shaky support. He was on the edge of passing out, blissed out of his mind and perfectly safe in Dorian’s hands, but Dorian was still inside him, and he wanted to bask in that for a little longer.

Apparently, so did Dorian, because he gathered him against his chest, Tucking John’s face against his shoulder and shifting to keep him above the waterline. Each movement, no matter how small, shifted Dorian inside him, and John wasn’t to the point where it felt sore, it just felt _fantastic_ and full and promising a round two at some point in the near future. Maybe After he’d had a nap, because ‘ _jheeze, Dee, you don’t mess about, do you.’_

“Only the best for you, John.”

 


End file.
